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There is officially a new reason on why Bill Cipher hates the human body. He hasn’t slept in a week. Just a week? Or more? He can’t tell. He never had to sleep, but being in a human body had its cons and pros. Scratch that, it had some pros and a lot of cons. He has never slept or dreamed - ironic from the Dream Demon. He wonders what his dreams would be like as his eye struggles to stay open at the late hours of probably 4 am. Bill doesn’t know. Even if there was a clock in the kitchen, he’s too tired to look at it.
Dreams. He knows dreams from up to top, every nook and cranny. He knows how to twist them to get what he wants out of someone, he knows how to get into them and appear trustworthy. But he can’t comprehend what it would be to just…dream. He’s never considered it, he never really did have to. And so he spirals into that thought. Maybe his dreams would have something he likes, someone he likes. Or maybe it could be bad. Something called a Nightmare.
The Nightmare Dimension was hilarious! Agony all over with so much chaos it eventually collapsed in on itself, but what would a nightmare be like to Bill? A nightmare is something bad, a dream twisted into the worst version of itself, a dream that makes you suffer through something horrible you did or something you fear. Bill didn’t fear anything - of course he didn’t! He was Bill Cipher!
So what could his nightmares be about? If it’s a dream which tortured you by involving something bad you did, Bill can name off a few. A dream of flames as high as the sky, screams, blood, chaos. The bad type of chaos, the bad type of flames, the bad type of screams and the bad type of blood. Maybe in that nightmare he could hear his mother’s voice. Billy. Billy. He always hated that nickname. Billy. It’s so childish. Billy. Yet he clings onto it like a child to its mother.
Or maybe his nightmare could be about something else. Other screams. Other torture. Someone he considered a pawn. Someone he considered a lover. All torn to pieces. Years and years passed and they’re reunited again. The last part sounds like a dream, a dream that came true. Bill was trillions of years old. And yet those 40 years passed so slowly. 40 years seemed so little for a god-like being. And yet those 40 years passed slower than the trillions Bill has lived.
The human mind could spiral out of control so easily. Spiral so deep it filtered out anything outside. Filter out those footsteps, filter out that voice.
“Bill? Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”
Of course. He should’ve expected Stanford to be as sleepless as he was. Bill wouldn’t be surprised if Ford also didn’t sleep yet.
“I don’t need sleep, I can sustain myself alright!”
Ford came to sit next to Bill, distracting him from whatever other spiral he was about to fall into. The eyebags under Ford’s eyes very clearly told Bill he hadn't slept in a long time as well. Hypocrite.
“You know, I’ve never seen you sleep, Bill. And now that you’re in a human body, you need to sleep to survive.”
Survival. Mortality. Bill wasn’t comfortable treading those paths. For all his life he took his immortality for granted, to question mortality now would send him into the depths of the human brain.
“That’s rich coming from you, Sixer! Last I checked you stay up all night writing!”
Ford sighed, but didn’t bother to deny it. He did have a faulty sleep schedule, but Bill’s was on a different level entirely.
“Bill, you know very well it’s different. I do sleep…most of the time, but you haven’t slept once. Just…could you sleep at least for today?”
He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to at all. All those screams, the wails of the ones he damned, would they be louder and louder when he closed his eye?
“Pfft, and where would I even sleep? All the beds are taken!”
“Well…I have an idea.”
Oh great. Sleep sleep sleep. Sleep. He hated sleep. It’s like passing out, but in a fancier way.
“And what is it?”
“You could maybe sleep in my bed…”
Bill raised an eyebrow, amused.
“And where would you sleep?”
“In the bed too, obviously.”
That spiked Bill’s interest. Of course he still didn’t want to sleep and possibly experience a nightmare. But the offer. It was tempting. And Bill could just pretend that he’s sleeping, there’s no way Ford would know!
“Ok, fine, I accept your offer. Let’s just get going!”
Ford quite frankly didn’t expect Bill to tag along, but anywho, he reached out his hand for Bill to take. Bill stared at it for a bit. It was almost like when he reached out his hand to make a deal. But this one seemed more flexible. More trustworthy. Safer. Bill eventually did take Ford’s hand and both of them went to Ford’s bedroom (can it even be considered a bedroom?)
Ford’s bed was in a sorry state - wood on the verge of collapsing and papers on top of it to the point you could barely even see the sheets. Typical Ford. All his scientific equipment and experiments are extremely well kept, and one of the only things meant for him and him only is probably 60 years old and crumbling to dust.
Ford clearly also noticed this, since he quickly moved to put all the papers to the floor instead of the bed.
“My apologies, I don’t usually sleep in this bed, I normally fall asleep on my desk.”
Of course he does. The amount of times Bill walked into Ford’s room and saw him passed out mid note taking couldn’t fit on just 10 fingers.
“It’s whatever, Fordsy! Let’s just go!”
Ford gave him a skeptical look - suspiciously as to why he was so excited to get to bed when he was declaring he “doesn’t need sleep” just a few minutes ago - but he brushed it off and climbed into bed.
Bill followed soon after. He never slept. How does someone sleep? From the long times he has spent watching Ford sleep back in the old days, he could possibly mimic it. Humans close their eyes and lay horizontally, usually curling in on themselves to provide comfort most likely. But how did two humans sleep in the same bed? Did they ignore each other? Was it like cuddling but with extra steps.
Bill shut off his thoughts when Ford gestured him to come closer. Bill knows that face. It’s the face Ford did when he and Bill were coiled together. Maybe that is what Bill has to do. Cuddling but with…his eye closed?
Bill assumed it was part of the process when Ford wrapped his arms around him, warm and safe. Bill’s face made eye contact with his chest. Not that he was complaining. This was actually a pretty good idea. Bill high fived himself internally and nuzzled closer when he felt a kiss to his head.
“Now, will you sleep, my muse?”
“Yeah yeah, of course I will!”
Ford was also too tired to think properly, so he just leaned closer to Bill and closed his eyes, falling asleep mere seconds after.
Which left Bill alone with his thoughts again. And his tiredness. Bill hated to admit it, but he wanted to sleep really badly right now. With how comfortable and warm he felt being practically cocooned by a drooling Ford, his eye felt so heavy. He tried to bury his face in Ford’s chest and tighten his grip around him to distract himself, but it only did worse.
And soon enough his eye dropped and dropped and dropped.
And Bill Cipher - the Dream Demon - fell asleep for the very first time. All of this caused by a human.
Love is a product, and Bill can’t believe he bought it with his soul.